Settle Down
by EN.Burton
Summary: After the Death Eaters attacked the World Cup in 1994, Harry awakens on the Express just before his fourth year - but in this reality, he isn't in Gryffindor, old friends are now enemies, and rivals are now friends. Between being dragged into the Triwizard Tournament and the escape of one Sirius Black, Harry also finds time to make a new rival, Viktor Krum. Magic AU,Warnings Inside
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, I've developed a bit of a taste for Viktor Krum/Harry Potter fics, and I thought I'd have a go at writing my own. First of all, I'd like to say that I'm at university, and don't have the book with me so I'm kind of relying on the movie for now. This story is going to be as canon-compliant as possible (where applicable), but as this is an AU, it obviously isn't going to be CANON canon, hell, much as I love the pairing it isn't really canon. I also apologise that this chapter may seem a little rushed, the next chapters won't be like that at all. I always welcome constructive criticism, and as usual do read and review. And I hope you enjoy this little distraction of mine.

Summary: After the Death Eaters storm the Quidditch World Cup, Harry is knocked out and finds himself in an alternate reality where he had been sorted into Slytherin. With the Triwizard Tournament coming up and Sirius Black's latest escape from Azkaban, Harry finds himself allying with the most unlikely people to survive this harsh new world.

 **WARNINGS:** AU, Slash, Slow Burn, Minor OCs

Oh, and if you don't like any of those, don't read - it really is as simple as that.

* * *

Harry had no idea what had hit him.

He had fallen on the muddy, branch-littered earth beneath him before the entire world seemed to blur, and the horror-struck screams around him faded into a heavy silence.

The whole Wizarding World labeled Harry as the 'Boy Who Lived', the boy who had put a stop the horrors inflicted on the magical community by one Lord Voldemort. Many held him to the same standard as a hero, and yet those very same people were trampling over him like was no more than a bug. Not that Harry blamed them, humans, magic or Muggle, value their lives instinctively – and chances are, had he not experienced what he had over the past three years he would be trampling all over the very same people with no regard for their safety or comfort.

Even in his state of fatigue, he still couldn't understand it.

The last thing he could remember before he lost consciousness was Hermione's distant screams…

* * *

When Harry had finally awoken, he recoiled - feeling the bitter cold of the window he had been leaning on.

Wait, window?

'Good morning, Sleeping Beauty,' said a cool, well-articulated male voice, 'how was your nap?'

Back to the window and legs outstretched onto the vacant space of his seat sat a lanky, pale boy with light brown hair – his face obscured by his open copy of the Daily Prophet.

 _September 1, 1994?_

Harry looked to his right momentarily, and his green eyes widened as he took in the dark scenery rushing past behind the glass. He was on the Hogwarts Express.

 _No, that can't be right… I was at the Quidditch World Cup, wasn't I?_

Harry found himself even more shocked when the other boy put away his paper and scowled at him, and he immediately recognized the boy as Theodore Nott, a Slytherin. What in Merlin's name was he doing in a compartment with Theodore Nott?

'Earth to Harry, come in, Harry Potter.'

' _Harry?' I wasn't aware we had suddenly become best mates._

Harry blinked several times, praying in his heart that this was some sort of waking dream, 'sorry, I'm a bit groggy, how long have I been asleep?'

Something very strange was going on here, and Harry had every intention of uncovering whatever Nott's, as well as anyone else's, pretenses. His best chance was to play along, and hopefully whatever the nature of this latest misadventure he had gotten himself into would become clear as day.

To Harry's surprise, Nott gave him a friendly smirk, 'since you sat your arse down, good thing too, you looked like shit. I suppose those Muggles of yours are still giving you hell.'

Harry gave him a forced smile, 'yeah, you know what they're like.' _Apparently._

The air between them was tense, and if Harry ever wanted to find out what was going on, he had to maintain the illusion of normality. He searched his mind for something, anything that the two might have in common – but it was Nott, not he, who broke the silence:

'So, apparently Snape has some "big surprise" for us,' the Slytherin boy scoffed, 'if its extra potions work just so we can get ahead of the Gryffindors, then he can forget it.'

Harry furrowed his brows, 'I'm sorry, "us"?'

Nott looked at his classmate incredulously, 'Slytherin House,' he said, slowly and rather patronizingly as though he were explaining a very complex concept to a five-year-old child.

Harry inhaled deeply, and very discreetly, his eyes rolled down to see the House Badge embroidered onto his robe.

 _Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin. Not Slytherin._

The train had come to a halt, and when it did, Harry finally saw the image of the serpent coiled within the confinements of the badge's borders.

* * *

Harry and Nott walked through the courtyard in silence – Harry could tell the (other?) Slytherin was starting to get a little suspicious, as he kept giving Harry side glances as though he may disappear at any moment ( _Harry prayed he did_ ).

Theodore's face perked up slightly, and Harry gave him a questioning look, 'Harry, look.' Harry's eyes followed the direction to which Nott's slender finger pointed – most, if not all, the students of Hogwarts were gathering by the courtyard's arches, their backs turned to the Slytherin duo.

'Come on,' he pulled Harry along to a vacant arch.

'What's going… on?' and just in time to answer his question, an intricately designed carriage pulled by half a dozen pegasi came soaring down from the clouds – their wings cutting gracefully through the air as they made their descent.

'Harry,' Theodore said with a dreamy quality in his velvety voice, 'look.'

Harry's green eyes widened as a wooden beam trailed across the lake before the mass beneath the flag pole rose from the dark waters of the Black Lake, exposing a massive ship with elegant arching structures at its back.

'What's going on?' Harry asked again.

'The Triwizard Tournament,' a familiar, confident voice stated as though it were obvious, 'the Durmstrang Institute and Beauxbaton Academy, those are our rivaling schools for the tournament.'

Harry and Nott spun around only to find a bushy-haired Gryffindor behind them.

'Hermione,' Harry breathed out – Nott gave him a strange look, but Harry ignored him.

It was such a relief to Harry to see a familiar face, in a world where everything was upside down; Hermione's face should have been a relief.

Should have been.

But this wasn't the Hermione he had been best friends with for over three years. This was the Hermione of whatever strange world this was. Instead of joining him, she merely nodded in acknowledgement with a curt, 'Potter, Nott.'

Harry froze immediately. Nott, however nodded back quite politely with 'Granger.' Harry was sort of surprised, Nott was never as malicious as Malfoy and his merry troop of junior Death Eaters, but it was no secret that he and his father held blood purity in high regards – as a majority of Purebloods did. For him to even be acknowledging Hermione was a bit surprising.

'You two should head to the Great Hall, I'm sure Dumbledore's going to begin his announcements soon - plus I don't think you boys want to miss meeting our guests,' she opened her mouth, and then closed it, 'see you at class.'

Harry noticed she looked Nott directly in the eye as she said that last part.

'Yeah, you too, thanks.'

Harry could see the ghost of a smile on her lips before she turned her back to them and headed into the castle.

'What was that about?' Harry asked, feeling sort of protective as he saw Nott smirk at the girl's back.

'Um, nothing. Let's get going.'

Harry never expected to be sat at the Slytherin table, underneath tall, handsome banners of green and silver. Nott had never been particularly popular with the Slytherins, but evidently it was more choice than not. Daphne Greengrass had attempted to strike up conversation with the brown-haired boy several times, but Nott's responses hardly showed any interest.

For a moment, Harry allowed himself to look longingly at the Gryffindor table, smiling as he saw Ron try to catch a chicken leg that Fred and George were levitating just out of his reach - some things never change.

Harry was surprised, however, at how nice Nott was to him. He was whispering pleasantly through the Sorting Ceremony, as well as Dumbledore's announcements.

'I mean,' Theodore rolled his eyes, 'I know my father is old but it doesn't take much effort to go to Diagon Alley for some shopping, I've been begging him for a copy of The Life and Trials of Nicholas Flammel since our second year,' he sagged his shoulders and for the first time, Harry had seen some emotion in the boy's eyes. Gryffindor rivalry with the serpent's house often meant Harry saw all Slytherins through a dirty lens – something he was not particularly proud of, after all, with an attitude like that Harry himself could easily fall prey to prejudiced thoughts.

'Anyways, how was your summer?' Nott forced a smile as he turned his face from scowling at the table as though it bore his father's face.

Harry was just about to tell the boy about the Quidditch World Cup – but had that even happened in this world? Harry had no idea where he stood with the Weasleys in this world, and a part of him was honestly far too scared to even find out.

Before he could even reply with a 'boring, I did nothing but stay at the Dursley's,' Dumbledore introduced the lovely ladies of the Beauxbâtons Academy.

Nott grinned and whispered 'bloody hell' as they strode through the hall in their snug blue dresses.

Their headmistress, Madam Maxime thundered through the hall, Harry had never seen such a tall woman – he was pretty sure he had heard Seamus Finnegan exclaim 'blimey, that's one BIG woman!'

Once the giantess made it to the front of the hall, the girls in blue bowed elegantly – their calculative movements bewitching almost all the men, and hell, even some of the women, into erupting into cheers and applause.

Dumbledore rose his hands and the applause died down almost immediately, 'and now, our friends from the North, please greet the proud sons and daughters of Durmstrang and their High Master, Igor Karkaroff.'

A loud tapping filled Harry's ears as the Durmstrang students clad in fur uniforms struck the ground will their staffs – sparks grazing on the Great Hall's stone floor. Twirling their staffs like batons they ran to the stage at the front of the hall before blowing on the heads' of their staffs – and Harry's heart was filled once again with wonder as he saw what beauty magic was capable of creating.

A ball of fire was blown out of five students' mouths, forming into flaming eagles.

'Blimey, its him, Viktor Krum.'

All eyes turned to the hall's entrance as, alongside Igor Karkaroff, a tall, stocky man with a determined expression on his face walked purposely towards through the hall. For a moment, Harry's green eyes locked with the familiar Bulgarian's black ones, and a chilling sensation ran up from Harry's spine as Viktor's scowl deepened even further, and he turned his face from the younger boy.

'What was that about,' Nott frowned.

'Honestly, Theodore, no clue.'

Once they had left the hall, Nott had whistled loudly, 'eternal glory, eh? Shame we can't compete.'

Harry furrowed his brows, 'do you have a death wish?'

'Better than You-Know-Who trying to kill you again,' Nott said grimly.

'Yeah, I guess,' seemed like after all that was different in this world, Voldemort would always remain to be the same sociopathic murderer he was in Harry's original reality.

As he lay down in his alien Slytherin bed below the levels of the Black Lake, Harry prayed to God that the moment he re-opened his eyes this whole experience would dissolve into a bizarre dream.

And if this was actually happening, then the first thing he'd do in the morning was speak to Dumbledore. Surely, the elder wizard would know what was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: So, here it is. firstly I would like to thank everyone who has taken their time to read this, and I do hope you're all enjoying it, after this chapter the pacing should get a lot better but I don't want to bore you guys with details you already know from canon. Again, things are going to diverge from the next chapter onwards, but hopefully the characters shall remain to be the characters you all know and love. Also, I suck at accents so I hope Viktor's is okay.**

 **Disclaimer (I forgot to include one in the last chapter): Harry Potter and all related characters belong to J.K. Rowling, I'm just writing out my fantasies based on her work. I claim no ownership whatsoever.**

 **As usual, read and review, I can only get better if you guys let me know how I'm doing!**

* * *

Harry's life from then up to Halloween had been nothing short of a nightmare. The Durmstrang students had taken to the Slytherin table, which gave Harry the best view of Draco Malfoy gawking at world-famous Quidditch star Viktor Krum shoveling food into his mouth rather barbarically. Harry would silently observe Krum, watching the only known Durmstrang girl with black curls scowl at Krum, speaking to him in a low voice and shooting glares at Malfoy whenever he tried to eavesdrop.

'Oh, you're British!' Malfoy had exclaimed after hearing the girl's accent.

'Half,' she said, sounding rather irritated that he had interrupted her; she hadn't even spared him a look before going back to whispering in Krum's ear.

Theodore had sniggered at Malfoy's expression of complete and utter devastation. Harry turned to Theodore with a curious expression, 'is that Krum's girlfriend?'

'Her? Oh no, that's Ravenna Burke. From what I've heard, she's Durmstrang's top student journalist as well as one of Krum's only friends – I think I overheard Daphne Greengrass says she's gay or something.'

Harry hadn't the faintest clue why that fact had relieved him.

Dumbledore was another problem, each time Harry had tried to confront the elderly wizard, he would merely shrug the boy off with a, ' _Harry, my boy! I would love to chat but time is of the essence, and I've not a single moment to spare, can it wait until after the Triwizard Champions are selected? Excellent, study hard, and try to keep out of trouble!'_ Then, not even allowing Harry the chance to respond, his blue eyes would twinkle in their signature way behind the half-moon lenses of his spectacles, before he would glide off with a twirl of his robes.

Dumbledore knew _something_ , of that much at least, Harry was certain, and there was nothing more agonizing than knowing that he did and yet he still insisted on blowing Harry off.

Hermione was still calling him 'Potter' – in this reality, Hermione, in this reality had, evidently, never become friends with Harry or Ron. Harry noticed her, arms folded and head held downward, stalking the halls of Hogwarts, sometimes with a book clutched to her chest.

Harry had never seen the bushy-haired girl so… hopeless.

He tried to be nice to her, and even dragged Theodore to study with them. Theodore had proven himself to be above the rudimentary mentality of most of the Slytherins, and was quite good-natured around the Muggle-born girl, even helping her with potions (her worst subject).

It hurt Harry that he and Hermione weren't as close as they were, but having her around certainly helped keep him calm.

His other 'best friend', however, was a problem.

He didn't know why he was surprised, Ron had never been the most sensible person, and it was no different here.

The first time he had seen Ron was in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, led by the enigmatic Alastor Moody.

After a very disturbing display of the effects of the Unforgiveable Curses, Moody had paired the two off, tasking the class to list down three possible reasonable uses for each of the curses.

'Bet you find a hundred for each, couldn't you, Potter?'

'Excuse me,' Harry frowned at his former friend, trying to avoid the glass cold stare the redhead gave him.

'You heard me, bet you'll end up like your uncle Voldemort and end up solving all your problems with an Unforgiveable.'

The entire class was cast into silence.

Harry was in a state of shock, he wasn't even sure if Malfoy had ever said something that cruel to him.

Malfoy, naturally, had an interested and slightly smug look on his face, whereas Theodore and Hermione gave Ron a look of utter disgust. And Neville Longbottom? Well, the poor boy looked like he wanted to bash his own face into his desk and die.

Ron gave out a loud yelp as the tip of Harry's wand jabbed itself onto his Adam's apple, 'son of a –'

'POTTER, WEASLEY, IF THE TWO OF YOU WANT TO HAVE A LITTLE LOVER'S SPAT, I HIGHLY RECOMMEND YOU SPARE US AND LEAVE IT TO THE BEDROOM,' Moody's intervention cut through the quiet atmosphere and almost every student jumped 3 feet off of their chairs.

His mechanical eye shifting around the class, the professor growled, 'Nott, you switch with Weasley.'

Without so much as an apologetic glance, Ron pushed himself dramatically of his seat and bumped his shoulder with Theodore, who shot a death glare at the ginger's back before taking his seat.

'What was that about,' Theodore demanded, and Harry could see concern in his eyes.

'No idea,' he sighed in response, for a moment he caught Hermione's eyes – he hadn't expected her to, but she gave him a sympathetic smile.

And despite all the confusion, and despite how all he knew had turned upside down, Harry found himself smiling back.

The Great Hall was alive with the chatter of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang students – who gathered in a massive circle-like arrangement around the Goblet of Fire, its blue flames dancing hypnotically.

'It's a shame fourteen-year-olds can't enter,' mused Theodore, casting a smug glance in the direction of Ron Weasley, 'I'd love to see Weasley go up against a Cockatrice.'

Harry gave a short, bitter laugh in agreement. After Ron's snide remark in class, the Ron here was a bit of an asshole. His anger would subside eventually, and he would try his luck again, but for now, Harry was content disliking his former best friend.

Once Dumbledore had silenced them, the once bustling hall now only played host to the cracking sound of the flame above the Goblet.

A piece of parchment shot up from the flame and it was official, Viktor Krum would be Durmstrang's champion.

Harry watched the star exchange a firm handshake with his headmaster, and couldn't help but wonder, judging by the size and shape of his hands, what his arms were like underneath that plain brown uniform.

The Beauxbatons champion would be Fleur Delacour, who all but pranced up to Dumbledore.

Hogwarts' champion would be Cedric Diggory, who Harry recognized from Quidditch.

As the Champions made their way to the Trophy Room at the back of the hall, Professor Dumbledore rose his hands, 'Excellent, we now have our three Champions! But in the end, only will go down in history, only one will hoist this chalice of Champions, this vessel of victory, the Triwizard Cup!'

A veil flew off the cerulean-colored vessel which was stationed by Mr. Crouch, and the entire hall clapped their hands.

But, of course, Harry would never be off the hook – he was bound to get into trouble one way or the other…

* * *

There was no way around it; Harry Potter was to compete in the Triwizard Tournament.

After an incredibly tense meeting with the headmasters and mistress, Moody, and Crouch, it was evident that the magic used by the Goblet was far too binding – they didn't have the authority to merely dismiss Harry.

Harry waited alone in the trophy chamber after everybody had left, bordering hyperventilation.

How on Earth was he going to last more than five minutes in this thing? It was absolutely brutal.

Of course, the others hadn't been very concerned about Harry's wellbeing; Maxime and Karkaroff had basically seen Harry's entrance into the Tournament as part of a scheme conceived by Dumbledore to ensure Hogwarts' victory. Honestly, Harry had no idea why they had ever chosen a career in education.

Later that night, when he had returned to the Slytherin common room, the atmosphere was – well – less than welcoming, to say the least.

'I can't believe it, that he'd get given a chance and not me, you wait until my father hears about this,' Malfoy muttered to Crabbe and Goyle, though he flashed Harry the most insincere of grins when the black haired boy shot him a look of sheer irritation.

'Look on the bright-side,' said Daphne Greengrass remarked in an unnecessarily loud voice to Pansy Parkinson, 'if he survives, this could be Slytherin's greatest achievement of all time.'

Harry rolled his eyes; it was hardly the time for House-Pride. He stalked off into his dorm and collapsed onto his unfamiliar emerald sheets.

'Want to talk about it?' Harry turned to his left where Theodore sat on his own bed, a book open on his crossed legs, 'or …not?'

'I didn't put my name in if that's what you're wondering,' Harry snapped.

'I believe you.'

Well, he wasn't expecting that – had it been Ron, Harry was willing to bet all he had in Gringotts that the redhead would have whined his ear off with _how could you put your name in and not even tell me?_

 _In other words, 'why is it that it's always about you, and not me?'_

'Oh.'

Theodore sighed, 'look, Harry, I get you're kind of tense right now, but don't let those assholes get to you, they're not worth it, and you're going to have enough to worry about anyways,' Theodore made a strange hand gesture, as though trying to gather his thoughts, 'this Tournament is one of a kind, it's made to test wizards and see what they're capable of, the last thing you need is to be distracted by the gossiping of idiots who clearly don't get how serious this Tournament is.'

'Everyone thinks I'm doing this for extra fame points,' Harry suddenly felt a rush of dread overcome his body and he shot up, sitting straight, 'I'm not ready for this.'

The brown haired boy snorted, 'I doubt even most of the adults here would be ready for it,' when Harry gave him a sour face, he coughed and added, 'then again, none of them have ever faced Lord Voldemort, have they? Well, except for Dumbledore.'

When Harry groaned and rolled over so his face was back into the warm embrace of his pillow, Theodore continued, 'look, teenagers are like parasites – sure, now you're all anyone's going to talk about, but soon enough this will all blow over. I promise.'

Though Harry couldn't see it, Theodore was smiling at him.

'Plus, you should have seen the expression on Malfoy's face when Dumbledore called your name.'

* * *

Why on earth did Harry even allow Theodore to drag him down to breakfast?

All eyes were on Hogwarts' youngest competitor, who very awkwardly took a bite out of a sausage whilst his friend read the latest issue of the Daily Prophet – hardly eventful. It was as though they expected Harry to break into song and to strut and dance his way across the hall in some dramatic proclamation of how he felt about being in the Triwizard Tournament.

Well, the students of Hogwarts weren't too disappointed once Theodore stood up and bellowed in a voice loud enough to bring on silence, 'WHAT? HAVEN'T ANY OF YOU EVER SEE A YOUNG MAN ENJOY A SAUSAGE BEFORE?'

Some gave him looks of disdain, such as Ron Weasley; others such as Hermione Granger held their hands to their mouths in a feeble attempt to stifle their laughter.

'Thanks for that,' like Harry needed the extra attention.

'Anytime!' Theodore beamed, before returning to his article on 'The Good Christian Covens of Texas'.

And just as Harry was about to take another bite in his rather well-known sausage, he felt two very strong fingers tap on his shoulder, those fingers belonged to none-other than Viktor Krum, with Ravenna Burke just behind him.

'You, Potter,' he said with a frown, Merlin, did he ever smile? 'Your professor vith the veird eye says ve train together.'

'Um,' out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed that most of the Great Hall was looking in their direction, and some were whispering rather obviously into their peers' ears with little (no) consideration. When his eyes turned to Theodore, he was still reading the Daily Prophet.

Good old Theo.

Oh, right, Krum, 'I thought we weren't supposed to get help, or help each other.'

'Da, da,' Krum said impatiently, 'but he says you are not in shape,' that was met with a fit of giggles, much appreciated, Moody, 'so ve vill do running every morning after you breakfast.'

'Um, okay?' Really? Why couldn't Moody have asked Cedric, or anyone else, not the mountain now standing above Harry who looked like he could fit his entire head in one of his hands.

'Meet me by lake in five minutes, and do not be late.'

With a last stern look at the shorter boy, Krum practically marched out of the hall – his staff hitting the ground.

'Well this should be interesting,' Theodore chuckled under his breath, nudging Harry's side with his elbow.

The awkward exchange turned out to be well worth it because Harry was pretty sure he heard Burke tell Malfoy, 'you, blond kid, shut your mouth – you'll get sprites in there,' she smiled rather nastily at the blond before making her exit.

Malfoy was so smitten that he hadn't even noticed Theodore's mocking bark of laughter.

* * *

 **Bonus Point: Totally stole this idea off of a fic I read ages ago, but if you review I'll send you a short preview from the next chapter.**


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